


What It is, And What It Isn't

by lethallyfreezingnewspaper



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Gen, Happy Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Irondad Bingo 2019, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethallyfreezingnewspaper/pseuds/lethallyfreezingnewspaper
Summary: With Captain America on the run, Ironman is currently the biggest threat to HYDRA’S plans for (eventual) world domination, and they need a way to keep him in check. If there’s one thing Hydra is good at, it’s brainwashing. It was quick and simple to place a little trigger word in Spiderman’s mind. Nothing too flashy, just… a Plan B. One-time use, but Hydra is good at biding its time, so that’d be enough.As Peter slowly stalks across the abandoned basement, eyes dead, movements mechanical, the only thought running through Tony’s mind isplease, no. I can’t hurt him.





	What It is, And What It Isn't

**Author's Note:**

> This story fulfills the 'Whump: Mind Control' square on my Irondad Bingo sheet! Enjoy. :)

            The first time Peter gets kidnapped, Tony goes into full-on panicked-dad-mode. Hydra had apparently gotten wind of a new human-spider hybrid running around the streets of Queens, and, well, their R&D labs just couldn’t resist. It’s surprisingly simple to nab Spiderman; it turns out he does help little old ladies across the road, even if said ladies then jam a Sig Sauer P120 into his gut and tell him to _get in the van_.

Hydra isn’t only interested in the experimentation side of things, though; with Captain America on the run, Ironman is currently the biggest threat to their plans for (eventual) world domination, and they need a way to keep him in check. If there’s one thing Hydra is good at, it’s brainwashing. It was quick and simple to place a little trigger word in Spiderman’s mind. Nothing too flashy, just… a Plan B. One-time use, but Hydra is good at biding its time, so that’d be enough (or so they thought).

            Tony Stark is not good at biding his time. Or patience. Or not going absolutely crazy and tracking down the Hydra base in a matter of hours with the help of perhaps a dozen cups of coffee. As it turns out, overdosing on caffeine is a very effective way for Tony to have strokes of genius, even if he then starts to smell colours.

Anyway, the point is that Hydra has barely gotten the newly-brainwashed kid back to his reinforced cell before Ironman bursts in, in full glory, takes everyone in sight down in mere seconds, scoops up Spiderman, and is off in a burst of repulsors. Bing, bang, boom, done and dusted, no harm done. Well, harm done to Hydra. But they don’t really count, so, no harm done.  

Interestingly, after that initial abduction, not much changes. Tony installs like 15,000 new trackers into the suit, but that was about it. After some careful prodding, Peter reluctantly reveals that he doesn’t actually remember a thing from his captivity. The kid, believe it or not, feels _guilty_ that he can’t provide any intel he might’ve been able to pick up, and Tony’s so caught between the sheer relief of _thank god I haven’t traumatized the kid_ and the panic of _ohmygod he has almost as much of a guilt complex as I do this is NOT GOOD_ that Tony just nods dumbly and tells him not to worry about it.

Surprisingly, both of them do just that. The kidnapping, and whatever Peter might’ve forgotten, slip to the back of both of their minds in the following months. So, when FRIDAY scrounges up some rumours about a back-up hard drive of Zola’s conscience being kept at a small outpost in Wisconsin, under a shut-down cheese factory, Tony doesn’t hesitate to invite Peter along. Mentor-mentee bonding, he calls it, _~~father-son bonding, a small piece of his mind whispers~~_ ~~.~~ Just with a bit more blood than the usual nerf-battles.

There are more thugs than at a normal Hydra den, but then again Zola’s always been about self-preservation above the greater good (or evil, when it comes to Hydra). Still, they’re nothing against the combined forces of Spiderman and Ironman; either one of the superheroes on their own is formidable, and together they’re nigh unstoppable. Tony tends to take the brunt of the attack, getting right into the middle of the fray, while Peter flips and swings along the edges, tying up strays and only dodging in if the situation looks a bit precarious. It’s the perfect unification of brawn and speed, of flexibility and brute strength.

The duo cleans the place out in minutes, only then turning to the small hard-drive, which carry the last remaining fraction of the vast and terrible mind of Zola. He’s currently hooked up to an ancient-looking, pixelated screen, where he’s been screaming and cursing at them throughout the entire fight. Now, he simply looks resigned and a bit disappointed as they advance on him, Tony’s clanking steps echoing around the concrete room.

Tony doesn’t like how this is going, though. It seemed easy- too easy. Even with the extra thugs, the fight had lasted less than thirty minutes. There was no special tech, no ‘Surprise!! We engineered a bunch of seals so now they only care about murder! Hope you like being smothered by blubber!’ (that was a weird mission), hell, some of the goons weren’t even in full armour. There was something coming, Tony could feel it, and while he didn’t know what it was, he sure as hell didn’t like it.

‘Well, well.’ A burst of static, probably meant to be a sigh, crackles out of a nearby speaker as Zola’s ghostly face moves on the screen. ‘I was definitely hoping I could save this for later.’

‘Mr. Stark.’ Peter’s whisper is low and urgent. ‘There’s something- something off. My Spider-Sense is going crazy. We need to get out of here.’

‘Agreed, kid.’ Tony replies as he steps forward, ready to blast Zola to kingdom come. It feels rather anti-climactic, just killing this man, no, he doesn’t deserve to be called human- killing this _horror_ who’s destroyed so many people’s lives, in a single blast. If Steve was here, he’d- _~~stop it. Steve’s not here. You don’t want Steve here. He chose Barnes over you. Barnes, the man who killed your parents. And then expected you to forgive him.~~_ ~~~~

‘Hesitating, now, Mister Stark?’ Zola taunts him from the screen. Peter’s a warm presence at his side; even if Tony can’t feel him through the heavy suit, Peter seems to emanate a warmth, a goodness, which manages to lighten even this hellish basement, haunted by the last remains of a former titan.

‘Not in the slightest, you knock-off Ultron,’ Tony shoots back. Just as he raises his arm, repulsor glowing, Zola cries out _‘Sokoon!’_ in that terrible, mechanical voice _,_ and suddenly Tony is thrown across the room.

His helmet, pulled back after the last thug had gone down, automatically snaps back place so Tony doesn’t crack his head open on the rough concrete. But being unexpectedly hurled twenty feet through the air is no small laughing matter, and Tony’s disoriented, and confused. By the time he’s come to, shaking off the pain, he’s pinned to the floor with- with webs?

‘Peter- what-‘ Tony coughs. He could break out of the constraints easily, had in fact installed the web-cutting protocols before he’d even met Peter, but perhaps this is some sort of weird secret-plan of Peter’s. Honestly, when it comes to Peter’s plans for taking down villains, the best thing to do is usually sit back, let him do the work, and try not to feel old as he casually insults all of your favourite childhood movies.

‘Well, Mister Stark, a couple of months ago we had the pleasure of spending some time with young Peter here. And-‘ Zola’s tone hardens, ‘While we didn’t get much time with him, thanks to you, we managed to implement a small, ah, failsafe. And now, I get the pleasure of watching Ironman die at the hands of his own protégé.’

Not a secret plan, then. Of Peter’s, that is- this was Zola’s trump card, Tony can see that clearly now. And the worst part is, it will work. Even now, as Peter slowly stalks across the abandoned basement, eyes dead, movements mechanical, the only thought running through Tony’s mind is _please, no. I can’t hurt him._

A small cowlick sticks up out of Peter’s hair, and it waves slightly as he makes his way towards Tony. That very same morning, Tony had unfruitfully patted it down while Peter grinned up at him, excited for this mission. The difference between those two boys is stark and terrifying, but Peter is _still Peter._  Tony will not, _cannot_ fight him, no matter what.

‘Peter. C’mon, kid, it’s me.’ Peter slowly cocks his head as he towers over Tony, but he doesn’t strike. Tony just needs to distract him long enough to get the restraint systems configurated, and then Peter will be out of harm’s way, and they can get out of this godforsaken basement. ‘After this, we were going to go out to ice cream, remember? That place near May’s-‘

Peter lashes out at May’s name, so quickly Tony can barely tense up, and suddenly Tony’s helmet is gone, clattering across the floor. They stare at each other, but there’s not a single hint of recognition in Peter’s eyes. Peter raises his fist, slower than before, and that’s enough time for the targeting systems to lock into place. Reinforced handcuffs spring out from the suit, locking around the kid’s wrists and ankles, winding all around his torso, and Tony winces as Peter clumsily falls to the ground, unable to catch himself. That’s going to leave some bruises.

‘Sorry, kid.’ Tony clambers to his feet, cutting himself out the webs with some short, quick blasts . ‘Let’s get you back to the tower, and then we can figure this whole mess out.’

 ‘Oh, Stark, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere,’ Zola chuckles.

‘FRIDAY,’ Tony starts when Peter speaks; his voice is so unemotional, as flat and dead as the concrete walls surrounding them, that Tony barely recognizes it. ‘Initiate Spiderling Override Protocol, password SIERRA-TANGO-ALPHA-ROMEO-WHISKEY-ALPHA-ROMEO-SIERRA.’

The restraints unlock with a heavy _clunk,_ and Peter shakes them off easily.

            ‘Yes! Now get him out of the suit, small one!’ Zola shrieks, delighted by this turn of events, as if that hadn’t been what he was expecting all along. He’s probably just surprised one of his plans is actually working, the goddamn idiot.  

            ‘Peter. Don’t listen to him. Look at me, okay? Remember. Ice cream. Stars wars. I’ll even let your friend, Ned? – yeah, he can come with us. Don’t do this-‘ Tony’s once again cut off when Peter leaps at him, egged on by Zola, shrill and sharp in the background.

            As Peter pummels him, systematically targeting all the weak points of the suit- _because of course he knows them, he’s spent hours staring at the blueprints next to Tony, days upon days of them locked in the lab, building and inventing and working together-_ Tony realizes something; he can’t win this.

            _He can’t win this._ The thought hits him like a blast of cold water, clear and simple as a sunrise. Tony will not walk out of this fight. Because Tony will pull all of his punches for Peter, and Peter, well, this not-Peter, won’t. Because Tony is nothing enhanced, _~~nothing special~~_ _,_ and Peter is more, Peter is extraordinary and strong and fast, _so fast_. Because the only thing that could save Tony is his suit, and Peter has the override codes.

All of them.

            And Tony knows that after this is done, when Tony’s dead and Peter’s brainwashing has run its course, Peter will hate himself. Blame himself. Bring himself to ruin both emotionally and physically, as Tony has, done again and again. And while Hydra might win this round, might have found the only weapon that Tony _cannot_ fight against, Tony will not let Hydra ruin Peter’s life as well.

In the past year, as they’ve grown closer and closer, Tony’s priorities have shifted. His reputation, his philanthropy, hell, even his suits have fallen to the wayside, and Peter? Peter’s become the real endgame. You can take everything away from Tony Stark and he will bear it without complaint, but if you dare to take a single _smidgen_ of happiness from Peter Parker, you’re a dead man. Done and dusted, no harm done. Because in Tony’s mind, you can’t harm monsters, only save the world from them. And that’s love. Not violence.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for the armour to become nothing but rubble, a useless pile of sparking circuits and bent metal plates, as these thoughts run circles in Tony’s mind. Tony scrambles, unable to help his instincts, back into a corner, and Peter looms over him. He grabs Tony roughly by the undershirt, dragging him forward until he’s on his knees.

            ‘Yes!’ Zola shrieks, overdramatic as usual. ‘End him! End the Stark legacy forever! Crumble it, tear it down into nothing!’ Peter pulls his fist back, and Tony knows that Peter packs enough of a punch to kill him with just one hit to the face.

            This is the end, for Tony. And while it’s not how he’d like to go, in a basement in Nowhere, Wisconsin, he’s surprisingly at peace with it. Tony has faced down death so many times alone, from forces both outside and in, that it’ll be kind of nice to die with someone he loves.

            ‘Peter.’ Tony says roughly, the words grating against his throat, because he needs to get this out, he needs to tell Peter the truth. Peter glares down at him. A small furrow appears in his brow. ‘This isn’t your fault, okay?’ Now Peter’s blinking rapidly, flexing his fingers, and Zola’s howling in the background, cackling about blood and lineage and the end of legacies, but Tony stares up at Peter, forces the world to narrow down to just the two of them. ‘It’s all going to be okay, bud.’ Tony takes a deep breath, forces out his last words in a soft, sincere, simple statement. ‘I forgive you.’

            Peter drops Tony and backs up, eyes clearing, face crinkling, head shaking, cowlick flapping, and that stupid piece of hair is such a ridiculous thing in this terrible moment that Tony can’t help but laugh.

            ‘Mr- Mr. Stark? Are you- what happened?’ He stammers, confused, and Tony launches to his feet in an instant, pulling him into a hug, still chuckling, and then Tony’s clutching him as tight as he can, and he’s still laughing, no, now tears are rolling down his face, and Peter is clinging to him too, and they’re both just sobbing and crying and everything is terrible and awful and yet somehow _they’re still alive_ in the basement of this vile, death-filled factory.

            ‘SOKOON!’ Zola shrieks, and Tony stiffens, but Peter does nothing except cling to him impossibly harder.

            ‘Hey, hey-kid?’ Peter looks up at him, and god, they’re both messes, all snot-covered and red-nosed, but they’re _alive._ Peter’s _okay._ And Tony feels this primal anger begin to surge up within him, something only a parent could feel for their child, an instinctual and unstoppable urge to protect, to shelter, to absolutely eviscerate anyone or anything that attempts to hurt their child. ‘We need to get out of here. Head up to the quinjet, okay? I’ll take care of this.’ Peter shakily nods, and slowly trudges up the stairs. His sniffles ~~and maybe Tony’s too~~ occasionally break the heavy silence. At the top he looks back, and Tony gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, though his insides are quivering with barely-restrained rage.  

            The metal door shuts behind Peter with a solid _thunk_ , and the false smile drops the second it does. Tony turns to Zola with murder in his eyes.

There’s more than one monster in the room now.

            ‘You _BASTARD!’_ Tony screams, vocal chords straining in pain, furious that Zola would take something, the only thing that’s pure and innocent in Tony’s life and warp it into pain. Tony- not Ironman, not the genius, or the playboy, or the billionaire, or the philanthropist, but the _father,_ attacks without hesitation.

            Zola’s death is many terrible things.

It’s quick.

It’s, to Tony’s regret, painless.

It’s the crunch of a hard drive underneath a malfunctioning metal boot while Zola’s screams echo from the speakers, barely able to be heard underneath Tony’s seething curses.

It’s the sharp shattering of glass as Tony punches the screens, not caring about the shards that embed themselves in his knuckles.

It’s the deafening silence that follows, broken only by Tony’s ragged breathing and the steady _drip, drip_ of blood onto the grey floor, when his vocal chords finally give out.

 It’s Tony, stoically spraying gasoline over the building as Peter clutches a lighter nearby, because not a line of code, not a single place of inhabitation, should remain for that absolute monster.

            Zola’s death is also many not-quite-as-awful things.

It’s Peter pulling Tony into another hug on the quinjet as they watch the factory slowly burn and crumble beneath them.

It’s how he quietly says ‘So, ice cream?’ and then holds Tony as he laughs, and laughs, and then maybe cries.  

            It’s how Peter tries to make Tony take away his overrides, and how no matter what he does, or says, Tony refuses. Because when it really mattered the most, the overrides aren’t what saved him. Peter is.

            It’s how Peter sometimes wakes up from nightmares just as he snaps Tony’s neck, and then goes and stands in Tony’s doorway, close enough to hear his breathing, but not quite able to bring himself to ask for a hug, because what if, _what if,_ he goes to reach for it and then his hands start choking and, and, _and_ -. But Tony always awakens and offers him nothing more than a soft smile, an embrace, and another chance to prove that Peter has control over what his own hands do. And those hands never choke, never snap, but cling tightly to his mentor- no, his _father_.

            It’s how Tony calls Steve on that little burner phone and asks him to _just come home,_ _please,_ because Tony knows now, he knows how it feels to have someone you love become someone you don’t recognize, and he honestly can’t find another single ounce of blame for Barnes in his entire body.

            It’s how the pair of them, shattered and broken, slowly heal.

It’s how Tony tells Peter _I forgive you_ whenever possible, even when it’s not applicable, because it’s always applicable, because Tony will, always has, and is constantly forgiving him. Peter drops a screwdriver. _I forgive you._ Peter gets an A+ on a test. _I forgive you._ Peter brings him a cup of coffee. _I forgive you._ It’s persistent, an unrelenting wave of love, and while it’s ridiculous and idiotic, so stupid that something that simple really _shouldn’t work,_ it does. And one day, after Tony murmurs an absent-minded ‘I forgive you,’ in reply to Peter’s sneeze, a small whisper echoes around the quiet lab.

            ‘I know.’

And that’s enough.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Note: 

            Barnes, Clint, and Peter form a new group, the _Brainwashed-But-Still-Kicking-Ass_ club. They meet Wednesday afternoons from 4:30-5:00, eat chocolate, conscientiously make decisions of their own free will, and give PowerPoints on the merits of democracy.

Clint proclaims that it’s ‘quite handy’ to have their own special club with a wink towards Barnes, and Barnes motions to have him kicked out of the club on the basis of terrible, amputee-based puns. Peter points out that it takes three people for it to be a club, any less is just a friendship with a name, and so the motion is shot down by a 2/3rds majority. All voting parties acted and voted under their own free will without outside influence, something which they take great pride in, and will point out to anyone listening (basically only Tony and Steve, the chocolate delivery systems).

           

**Author's Note:**

> -A ‘sokoon’ is a small marking in Arabic that you add to a letter to make it silent/shorten it, which I thought would be fitting for a trigger word. 
> 
> -Note that Peter’s password is STARWARS. 
> 
> -I have nothing against Wisconsin, it was just the first place that popped into my mind.
> 
> -FYI ‘You can’t harm monsters, only save the world from them.’ Is one of my favourite line I’ve ever written. 
> 
> I hope you liked it! All kudos and comments are LOVED!


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